My friend Lynn
cut off her hair for her 30th birthday. When she told me she was going to, I couldn't believe it. I mean, I've seen her with short hair plenty of times in the nearly 20 years I've known her, but her long, straight, thick hair was just gorgeous. And then she cut it off and it seemed so cute and perfect when we went to see her, and I decided I wanted to cut my hair off too. Except then I saw a picture that Lynn took and I decided that, in spite of the frizz and tangles, I liked my long hair.
Maybe part of it was being afraid that if I cut off my hair it would mean I was 30 and a mom. But actually it turns out that being alive for 30 years and having a kid is actually what means I'm 30 and a mom (I know!) and my hair had little to do with it. And, I remembered how nice it had felt to cut off a lot of hair about five years ago, and I kept talking about doing it, and after all that talking it would have been pretty lame to come home from the salon with just a little trim, you know?
